


The Night Sam Sang Karaoke

by LittleGreenPlasticSoldier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Drunk Sam, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fraternities & Sororities, Gen, Humor, I know the song is shit but that's part of the plot :D, Jealous Dean Winchester, Karaoke, Kissing, Song: Jump, Swearing, Violence, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleGreenPlasticSoldier/pseuds/LittleGreenPlasticSoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daddy Mac will make you…</p><p>For The Cheesy Songs Decades Challenge! by @cici0507. I got Jump, by Kriss Kross.  Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Sam Sang Karaoke

“How you travellin’?”

You’re back at the bar, Sam leaning on his elbows just like you, and he’s ruddy, happy, and cocky as all shit.  It’s quite refreshing.

“Yeah, nah I’m good,” he confides, peeking over to Dean.  He’s parked at a table, watching you chat with his brother in the noisy, crowded bar.  Both of you have been separately cruising, surveying Sam as he befriends this frat squad because you’re pretty sure they’ve got a witch in their midst, but you’re not sure who.

“‘S goin’ well, yeah. Solid chance, with um.  Yeah, I think we’re right,” he frowns thoughtfully, business-like but too chatty and drunk to pull off professional.

You smile at him knowingly.

“What?” he scoffs.

“You’re lovin’ it.”

“Pffft, fuck off!” he sniffs.  “Nah, like, it’s easy.  I just don’t talk about family, or work.  They’re complete prats,” he adds.  “You see that guy in the salmon shirt?”

“You mean watermelon? Yeah,” you lean a little.

“He and his mom and his older brother run a glamping company in Colorado.  That’s his _pocket money_.” Sam’s eyebrows lean up into his hairline.

“Right-”

“Yo SAAAM!”  “SAMMYYY!”  “Sa-ME! Go Boyeee!”

His new friends start cheering him on as though you’re a conquest, and he waves his hands No!, gestures to cut at his throat, and Watermelon Guy trots up to drape himself on Sam’s back.  

“You like our boy Sam here?” He slaps Sam too hard.

“No, we’re just having a chat,” you say patiently.

“Oh, can I chat? Can I just, can I join in?” He reaches between you to get Sam’s beer, stealing a sip, and you notice Sam let that shit slide.  “I love a chat,” the guy says, putting the bottle back and sliding his hand down your back to your hip.  You reach for your own drink the long way, turning against the bar, and eyeball Dean with a quick _What the Everloving Hell No_ face.  He pops out of his seat like he just got bit.

“My name’s Jayden,” the guy grins, and tucks his hand in the small space between you and Sam, offering a shake.

“That’s great Jayden,” Dean says. He stands beside you, facing Jayden and slips a hand around your waist.  

You do your best to hide your surprise.  It’s hard to play it cool, but any time you guys have to fake romance you find you kind of can’t see properly.  A mild catatonic state slips over you whenever Dean touches you like this, even if it’s just for show.

Sam leans back over the bar and tips the bottle into his pout while Jayden gets stood down.

“Oh hey man, hey-” Jayden’s all suave surrender.  “It’s cool.  Didn’t realise she was taken.”

Dean squints a shitty smile and says nothing.

“It’s all good, but hey,” Jayden looks at you.  “We’re gonna do some songs, yeah?  You should make a request for Sam here. Yeah?”

You look at Jayden and wonder what kind of idiot he is.  

The brave kind apparently. “You got a favourite?  He’ll sing it for you-” he presses.

“I don’t need him to sing me a song,” you say, cutting in before either brother has to have a fake status battle over you.

“Has he ever sung you a song?” He looks at you and points at Dean like he isn’t there.  “Has he?  He’s never sung you a song before has he.”  The bastard has a grinning wild-eyed death wish and all you can do is stare.

Sam pauses cautiously, his expression mildly _Oooshit_ at Dean’s growing mood.  Jayden’s playing ‘Shave and a Haircut’ on the end of a warhead here, and Sam sees the short indulgent life flash before his eyes.

Luckily, even drunk Sam knows what to do and collects the toothy jerk in a playful headlock.  “How ‘bout I sing _you_ a song Jay? Name it.  Any song.”

“Fucker, you are on!” Jayden growls.  He wraps an arm around Sam’s waist and turns him toward his friends.  “KARAOKE MOTHERFUCKERS!”

“YAAAAAAAR!”

They cheer like pirates on shore leave and amble towards the song machine, steins first.

Dean steps behind you, leaning sideways against the bar.  He lets his elbow rest on the bar and his other hand hugs your waist, a little looser but still there; keeping up appearances you guess.

Sam climbs onto the stage, mic in hand, reluctant but happy, saying, “I don’t care, just start it up!”

The intro chatter of the song begins and you feel Dean’s groan through your shoulder.

Sam smiles, laughs at the boys in front of him, and they jeer and yell, daring him to try as more of the song goes by.  The chorus happens early and the group bounces with it, “Jump! Jump!”

Sam fills in the parts - words even you know - “The Mac Dad’ll make you-” and his new BFFs jump, jump every time he throws it their way.

And then the lyrics begin - “Don’t! Try to compare us to, another bad little fad! I’m the Mac and I’m bad give you something that you never had!” - and Sam _owns it._  He leans in, left hand waving the words at the frat crew, fingers right over the mic head, and he says every fucking syllable.

“He knows the whole damn song,” Dean breathes, stunned.

“Yeah… he really… really knows it,” you observe.

Dean blinks away his surprise, shakes his head in disgust. “They can fuckin’ have him.”

Soon the whole mob of them have climbed onto the stage, making the wooden floor shudder every time the chorus rolls around. And there’s Sam, in the middle, the only one who doesn’t go up each time.

Jayden, who cannot seem to leave danger alone, looks right at you and sings, “I got you jumpin’ and bumpin’ and pumpin’, movin’ all a _round_ G”.  He drops into a jolting hiphop march with the straight arms and all.

Dean leans down, talking to your hidden ear and Jayden watches him, almost dancing for a fight. “I so, _so_ want him to be the witch.”  The closeness and tenor of his voice carries his words through the noise. You can barely concentrate on what he’s saying when he’s this close to you.

You half turn around to him and he leans back a little to see. You place your hand on his belly - _for appearances_ \- getting the lower half of his ribs, firm and warm under the fabric.  He looks down at you, eyebrows high in honesty, and you reply, “Me too honey.”

Jayden keeps dancing at you, his boys bouncing around him.  Sam looks happy in the choppy sea of adolescent men, yelling and slamming and bottles and sweat.

“Man,” Dean shakes his head and turns, his hold on you bringing you belly up to the bar.  “I’m trying not to take the bait, but that guy’s so fucking annoying.”

“What do you care if I got someone so wiggity-whack after me?” you stir.

“Uuuuh,” he groans.  “Don’t even.  Witch or not, he’s a flaming douche who needs to be put in his place.”  You’re tickled as all hell that Dean’s irritated like this.  “Stupid boy’s pitching out of his league.”

Dean gestures for two more drinks and looks back over his shoulder.  Jayden’s joined in with his friends, but still has half an eye your way.  

Dean catches you looking at him, amused and trying not to laugh.  “You told him to leave you alone!” he explains.

“Ugh, yeah.  That’s so annoying.”

“So fucking annoying.”

“Why is it annoying? Tell me again?”

“Oh bite me.”

“But he’s not touching me, he’s not touching me, he’s not even touching me. Why are you so annoyed _boyfriend_ , huh?” You nudge him with your shoulder, and he sways with it, tolerating you with a pinched smile.

You look up again and grin, and he looks down and chews.  “You should be careful what you wish for, you know.”

Seconds pass while you consider that thought.  The arm he has around your back, still holding your waist, has become tighter with your jostling.

“You know me… always careful.”  You collect your glass and turn to him slightly.  “What shall we drink to?”

Dean takes a deep breath, lets his hand leave you to get his whiskey, and keeps leaning. “To a quick hunt,” he suggests.

“Huh.  To wishes then,” you offer, “coming true.”

“I’ll drink t-”

“AGAIN!” someone on the stage shouts and they all yell back.  Both of you glance over to see Sam beginning to waver.  He sure as hell doesn’t want to do that again but he smiles, drinks deep, says “Again!” with everyone else, and lets the boys climb him as they gush at each other.

“To jumping,” Dean decides, and you turn back, finding him smiling at you, something happy and cheeky that makes you hold your breath.

…

Three hours later, it’s just you guys and three boys, biffing it out in the boiler room of the frat house.  It’s not that witches need beating, but the boys seem keen to fight.

Dean kicked up their witchy-hoodoo shrine, and then found the stash of hazing crap, which he finds terribly curious and has been putting to use with Jayden.

The other two boys, granted, are more hangers on, and one of them is quite simple. “Why are you doin’ this man?” he wails at Sam, having realised he’s not really a fighter.

“I’m a fucking hunter, asshole.”

“What’s a hunter?!”

Jayden, of course, is the ringleader and an actual witch.  Turns out he presents as 20-ish but is actually about 85 years old and freaking _craving_ conflict in his fit and healthy body. Still, he’s old enough to know better than to be so gregarious.  Dean has him on his knees, tantruming between panic and fury.

“So what’s with the glamping set-up?” Dean asks, feeling the weight of a wooden paddle he’s found.

“What? No, that’s a cover.” Jayden puffs with irritation, lips spit-dripping, cheeks shining, and hair tossed.  He’s hating that he can’t get the upper hand on Dean, magic or none.  “It’s just something these cretinous twats will eat up!”

“Lies,” Dean nods gravely. “At’s a paddlin’.”

_“Fuck off!”_

You’ve been herding the third guy but he keeps himself out of your reach. After a few minutes of shuffling and dodging, he drops his arms in despair and whines, “I can’t hit a girl!”

“Yeah you can,” Sam and Dean tell him.

“She can’t hit back!” he points.

“Yeah she can,” they say again.

You’re still blocking his escape, so the guy rolls his shoulders, brings up his fists and readies himself.  “Well okay, but only because you’re bein’ a bitch.”

“Okeydokey,” you shrug.

Sam and Dean stop what they’re doing to watch.  

The fight lasts all of about 15 seconds before he’s on the ground.

“See that?” Dean says to Jayden, a fist full of watermelon cotton knit.  “And you can’t have her.” He smiles like _Ain’t that a bitch._

“No one likes a possessive boyfriend,” Jayden spits.

Dean smirks. “I wish.  She’s not even _with_ me.”

“What?” says Jayden.

“What?” says you.

“What?” says Dean. He leans up to check what you meant.

“Yeah you are,” you say, standing there like _Pfft! Dude!_  “You said we were jumping!”

Dean doesn’t know what to do.  A smile fights its way free and he gives in to being happy for a moment.  He turns back to Jayden and sighs a great big goofy sigh.  “Well, wiggity-wiggity-wiggity-wack,” he says, and punches Jayden one more time.

Sam comes over to collect Jayden and set him up for a good old fashioned banishing spell, and Dean stands himself tall, grinning at his knuckles for no good reason.  When he does finally look at you it’s with a smile that’s, bless him, a little shy.

You take a moment to still your own heart, surprised at your own bravery.  “Dude,” you shake your head.  “You so know all the words.”

He scoffs, his face bouncing between disgust and denial, and eventually settles on chewing his lip with his hands on his hips, too happy to really be pissed…  “As if you don’t.”

You step towards him, over a body, drawn directly to that sparkling smile, and yank his shirt front to pull him down for a kiss.  It’s solid and warm and you _mmph!_ at how nice it is.  

He _mmph!_ s back and you feel his hands grab onto your ribs and pull you close.  It takes Sam’s cleared throat, his patient “Guys” and finally Jayden’s “For fuck’s sake” for you to break it up.  The man just tastes too good.


End file.
